“From One Man”: Acts 17, Image Theology, and the Collapse of Mahler’s Sanctification Hierarchy

A Theological Review of the White vs. Mahler Debate

Resolution: “God can sanctify blacks just as much as He does whites.”

1. Framing the Resolution

Though provocatively phrased, the debate centers on a precise theological question: Does God providentially sanctify black people to the same degree as white people, or is there a racial stratification in the outworking of His sanctifying grace?

Both sides agree God can sanctify anyone He wills. The dispute concerns whether there is an actual pattern in God’s providence such that certain races are ordinarily sanctified to a lesser degree.

James White affirms a biblical universalism in grace: that God shows no partiality (Rom 2:11), and that believers from every ethnicity are equally united to Christ (Gal 3:28). Corey Mahler, however, argues that although blacks are sanctified, they are not sanctified as much—statistically and providentially—as whites, and that this is rooted in genetic and civilizational differences.

The burden of proof lies entirely with Mahler. It is not enough to show that sanctification differs—we all agree that sanctification varies by person (Phil 1:6). He must show that such variance follows racial lines by divine design—and that requires theological, not merely statistical, justification.

2. James White’s Case

White’s presentation was rooted in biblical theology and the unity of the church in Christ:

Revelation 5:9 – Christ redeemed people from “every tribe and language and people and nation.”
Galatians 3:28 – “There is neither Jew nor Greek… for you are all one in Christ Jesus.”
Ephesians 2:14–15 – Christ “has broken down the dividing wall… creating in himself one new man in place of the two.”

White emphasized that God does not sanctify people based on race, nationality, or class, but according to His sovereign grace in Christ. He stressed that to suggest a racial hierarchy in sanctification is to deny the catholicity of the church and the impartiality of God.

However, White occasionally drifted into broader theological points and missed opportunities to directly expose the internal collapse of Mahler’s assumptions. He did not always press the resolution clearly—namely, the lack of biblical warrant for racially distributed sanctification. Nevertheless, his theological instincts and Scripture usage were sound.

His strongest moment came when he asked Mahler: If God providentially sanctifies whites more, should that not be reflected in church structure, leadership, and education? Mahler dodged, but the point stands—his view logically entails racial ecclesiology: a hierarchy of sanctification would demand racial stratification in church life.

And yet, the New Testament church was strikingly multiethnic. From Antioch (Acts 13:1–3), where prophets and teachers included Africans and Greeks, to the Jerusalem Council’s affirmation of Gentile inclusion (Acts 15), to Paul’s explicit rebuke of Peter for withdrawing from table fellowship with Gentiles (Gal 2:11–14), the early church fought to preserve visible unity across racial and cultural lines.

The apostles never suggest that racial background determines discipleship potential or spiritual maturity. On the contrary:

Romans 10:12 – “There is no distinction between Jew and Greek; the same Lord is Lord of all, bestowing his riches on all who call on him.”
1 Corinthians 12:13 – “For in one Spirit we were all baptized into one body—Jews or Greeks, slaves or free—and all were made to drink of one Spirit.”

There is no ecclesiological model in Scripture that divides sanctification expectation—or pastoral authority—by race. To suggest otherwise is to import foreign categories into the theology of the church and deny the visible catholicity of Christ’s body.

3. Corey Mahler’s Case

Mahler concedes that black individuals are indeed sanctified by God, but maintains that this sanctification occurs to a lesser degree on average than among whites. He attributes this disparity to God’s providential ordering, which, in his view, is shaped by genetic predispositions and long-term civilizational development. Mahler frames the issue in terms of nomological modality: while it is logically and metaphysically possible for God to sanctify all ethnic groups equally, He has, according to Mahler, ordained laws of nature and providence under which such equality does not occur.

Mahler does not base this claim on specific biblical texts, but rather on observations of the world, including patterns from genetics, sociology, and history. He treats these patterns as part of the revealed structure of God’s providential design. While he acknowledges that all saints are sanctified, he contends that ethnic groups vary in their average degree of sanctification, much like individual Christians vary in spiritual maturity. He also draws analogies to biological or cognitive limitations—such as those seen in individuals with Down syndrome—to illustrate how inherited traits may affect the trajectory or expression of sanctification without negating its reality.

Mahler also approaches these questions from the framework of Christian nationalism. He holds that God has providentially ordered the nations not only in their temporal histories but in their geographic and ethnic boundaries. Drawing from passages such as Acts 17:26, he argues that God has appointed peoples to live in distinct regions of the earth, and that this ordering includes an implied prohibition against large-scale intermingling of distinct ethnic groups. For Mahler, the preservation of ethno-national distinctions is part of the divinely instituted structure of creation and providence, not merely a cultural or political preference.

Within this paradigm, Mahler views the movement of peoples, especially through immigration or multiculturalism, as a disruption of God’s intended design. He maintains that the boundaries of nations are not only politically significant but theologically rooted, and that the stability of a people—including their sanctification and religious development—is closely tied to their continuity within ancestral lands and homogenous communities.

Mahler’s argument rests on three pillars, all deeply flawed:

(a) Race Realism and Genetics

Mahler asserts that black people are genetically predisposed to lower intelligence, weaker moral restraint, and reduced cultural refinement—and therefore, on average, exhibit less sanctification. This claim is profoundly flawed on multiple levels:

1. Philosophically Unsound

Mahler’s view relies on race realism—the idea that “black” and “white” are biologically discrete, essential categories with fixed traits. But modern genetics flatly contradicts this. Human genetic diversity is clinal, not compartmentalized: most variation exists within so-called racial groups, not between them. Categories like “black” and “white” are socially constructed around visible traits such as skin tone and facial structure, which do not correspond to coherent biological boundaries. To impose theological significance on such constructs is both scientifically indefensible and philosophically incoherent.

2. Biblically Unsupported

Scripture does not attribute spiritual capacity, moral growth, or redemptive potential to race. Instead, the Bible insists:

All human beings are equally made in the image of God (Gen 1:26–27).
All are equally fallen in Adam (Rom 5:12; Rom 3:9, 23).
All are equally called and redeemable in Christ (Tit 2:11; Rev 5:9; Acts 10:34–35).

Furthermore, the Bible teaches that all the nations of the earth descend from a single human family:

Adam is the father of all humanity (Gen 2:7; Rom 5:12–19).
Noah, through his three sons—Shem, Ham, and Japheth—is the common ancestor of every post-flood nation (Gen 9:18–19; 10:1–32).

This means that all so-called racial groups are one extended family under God. Ethnic diversity is real but derivative—a result of providential dispersion, not divine hierarchy. To suggest that some racial lines are less sanctifiable than others is to deny the unity of humanity and undermine the very theological structure Scripture uses to explain both sin and salvation.

3. Providentially Speculative

Even if one observes differences in cultural development or behavior across ethnic groups, such patterns do not justify reading divine intent into racial outcomes. Providence, while universal and sovereign, is also inscrutable (Eccl 3:11; Rom 11:33–34). Without explicit divine interpretation, drawing theological conclusions from observed historical patterns amounts to unauthorized inference—what Bavinck cautioned against as a kind of false mysticism of history.

Scripture never teaches that sanctification is racially distributed. It is always portrayed as personal, Spirit-wrought, and covenantal—flowing from union with Christ, not from bloodline or biology (John 15:5; 2 Cor 5:17; Rom 6:4–11). Sanctification is not statistical—it is pneumatological and eschatological, part of the believer’s transformation into the image of Christ.

4. Contradicted by Acts 17:26–27

“And He made from one man every nation of mankind to live on all the face of the earth… that they should seek God, and perhaps feel their way toward him and find him.”

“From One Man… Every Nation”: Unity of Humanity in Adam.

Corey Mahler appeals to divine providence and a kind of natural theology in Acts 17:26 to argue that God established a fixed racial order – even a hierarchy – among nations as part of Christian sanctification. In Mahler’s interpretation, the fact that God “determined [the] allotted periods and the boundaries of [the] dwelling place” of each nation (Acts 17:26) is taken as proof that racial and ethnic separation (and an implied hierarchy of “Christian” nations) is the divinely ordained norm for human society. Mahler thus folds Christian nationalism and racial essentialism into his theology of sanctification, suggesting that one’s ethnic nation has a God-given spiritual status. However, Paul’s Areopagus address teaches the opposite of what Mahler claims. Far from promoting ethnic superiority or permanent segregation, Acts 17:26–31 affirms the fundamental unity and equality of all humanity in creation and God’s redemptive plan. As F. F. Bruce pointedly observes, “Neither in nature nor in grace, neither in the old creation nor in the new, is there any room for ideas of racial superiority.” Paul’s message is that all peoples stand on level ground before their Creator – one human family sharing one origin and one moral call to repent – leaving no theological basis for a racial hierarchy in the Christian life.

In Acts 17:26 Paul declares that God “made from one man every nation of mankind to live on all the face of the earth.” This affirms the common origin of all peoples in Adam (or at least in one human stock) and directly undermines any notion of intrinsic racial superiority. Ancient Greek pride held that Greeks were a superior, autochthonous people, distinct from “barbarian” races. Paul sweeps aside that ethnocentrism by emphasizing that every nation descends from the same human ancestor and is equally created by the one true God. As New Testament scholar A.T. Robertson explains, “What Paul affirms is the unity of the human race with a common origin and with God as the Creator.” This view “runs counter to Greek exclusiveness which treated other races as barbarians,” and even against Jewish pride in being uniquely chosen. In fact, “the cosmopolitanism of Paul here rises above Jew and Greek and claims the one God as the Creator of the one race of men.” All ethnic groups share the same “one blood” in older translations, highlighting that humanity is one family in Adam, marred equally by the Fall and in equal need of salvation. Thus, there is no biblical warrant in this verse for a divinely ranked division of races – Paul’s intent is to humble his listeners’ ethnic arrogance, not endorse it.
Paul roots his argument in Genesis, affirming both monotheism and the shared ancestry of humanity in Adam. Contrary to Greco-Roman beliefs in diverse human origins from various deities, Paul insists that all nations derive from a single man. As D.A. Carson explains:

“Paul insists that all nations descended from one man. This contradicts notions of human descent that conjectured different ethnic groups came into being in different ways… Paul’s stance has wider implications: there is no trace of racism here.”

This is not a minor anthropological point. It is theological: being descended from one man and made in God’s image (cf. Gen 1:26–27; Acts 17:28–29) means that all people are equally accountable to God, and all equally called to seek Him. Paul references a pagan poet to reinforce this: “we are his offspring,” not to affirm pantheism or immanence, but to highlight universal image-bearing (cf. Bock, Barrett, Fitzmyer).

The substance of Paul’s Athenian address concerns the nature of God and the responsibility of people to God. Contrary to all pantheistic and polytheistic notions, God is the one, Paul says, who has created the world and everything in it: he is “the Lord of heaven and earth” (v.24; cf. Ge 14:19, 22). He does not live in temples “built by hands” (en cheiropoiētois); nor is he dependent for his existence on anything he has created. Rather, he is the source of life and breath and everything else that humanity possesses (v.25). Earlier in the fifth century BC, Euripides asked, “What house built by craftsmen could enclose the form divine within enfolding walls?” (Fragments 968); and in the first century BC, Cicero (Verr. 2.5.187) considered the image of Ceres worshiped in Sicily worthy of honor because it was not made with hands but had fallen from the sky. While Paul’s argument can be paralleled at some points by the higher paganism of the day, its content is decidedly biblical (cf. 1Ki 8:27; Isa 66:1–2) and its forms of expression are Jewish as well as Greek (cf. Isa 2:18; 19:1; 31:7 [LXX]; Sib Or. 4.8–12; Ac 7:41, 48; Heb 8:2; 9:24 on the pejorative use of “built with hands” for idols and temples). 26–27 Contrary to the Athenians’ boast that they had originated from the soil of their Attic homeland and therefore were not like other men, Paul affirms the oneness of all people in their creation by one God and their descent from a common ancestor. And contrary to the primitive “deism” that permeated the philosophies of the day, he proclaimed that this God has determined specific times (prostetagmenous kairous) for humanity and “the exact places where they should live” (tas horothesias tēs katoikias, lit., “the boundaries of their habitation”), so that men and women “would seek him … and find him” (v.27). (Longenecker, Richard N.. Acts (The Expositor’s Bible Commentary) (pp. 983-984). Zondervan Academic. Kindle Edition.)

“The poet will have understood these words in a pantheistic sense, but Paul appears to have viewed them in the light of the image of God theology in Genesis 1:26–27.” (Peterson, Acts, p. 499)

Providence and Boundaries: A Call to Seek God, Not to Segregate.

When Paul adds that God “determined allotted periods and the boundaries of their dwelling place” (Acts 17:26), he is describing God’s sovereign arrangement of history – the rise and fall of nations and epochs – as part of God’s providential plan. Mahler seizes on the word “boundaries” to insist that God’s will is the maintenance of separate ethno-national entities (a common nationalist reading). But Paul’s next words reveal God’s purpose in ordering the nations’ times and places: “that they should seek God, in the hope that they might feel their way toward him and find him” (17:27). In other words, the goal of God’s providential governance of the nations is redemptive and unifying, not the eternal preservation of ethnic divisions. Commentators note that the “boundaries” in view are descriptive of the historical dispersions and migrations of peoples – the conditions in which God’s plan of redemption unfolds – rather than prescriptive rules forbidding movement or mixture. As Craig Keener explains, those who have used Acts 17:26 to justify ethnic separatism have entirely “missed its point.” Paul’s statement that God sets national boundaries was meant to humble the nations, showing that their times and territories exist only by God’s sovereignty for certain eras. These arrangements are “far from being prescriptive” of some permanent racial order; they are temporary “geographic separations” allowed “for various seasons” – and ultimately “all to be overturned in divinely appointed times.” Indeed, the Bible shows that God has overturned such divisions: for example, at Babel God scattered the nations in judgment, but at Pentecost He began reuniting them in Christ as people heard the gospel in all tongues. Thus, Acts 17:26 proclaims that every empire or nation exists under God’s authority for His purposes, not its own glory. The Roman Empire itself – a multiethnic empire that had incorporated the Greeks Paul addressed – was being used by God to spread the gospel across ethnic lines. Paul’s audience in Athens lived under an imperial system of mingled peoples, yet he did not call them to segregate by ethnicity; rather, he called all to repent together under the one universal Lord. Scripture consistently shows that when nations pridefully exalt themselves or their ethnicity, God brings them low. The “more ethnocentric, arrogant empires” – Assyria, for example – “had always fallen the hardest,” a pattern Paul’s message reinforces. Far from validating nationalist pride, God’s providence in history should lead every people to humility and to seek the true God who made them.

Mahler’s Christian nationalism assumes that monoethnic boundaries reflect God’s normative design, but Acts 17:26 teaches that even multiethnic empires or diverse nations exist because God has placed people there: “He determined the times and boundaries of their dwelling place.” As Carson notes:

“That means not only is there no room for racism or elitist tribalism, but one of the entailments of monotheism is that if there is one God, He must in some sense be God of all, whether acknowledged or not.” (The Gagging of God, loc. 11484)

God appoints both the rise and fall of nations (Dan 2:21), the scattering and gathering of peoples (Deut 32:8; Gen 11), and does so not to preserve racial distinctions, but to foster a universal call to seek Him (Acts 17:27). The purpose is evangelistic, not ethnonational.

“God’s Offspring” – Imago Dei vs. Racial Essentialism

In Acts 17:28, Paul reinforces humanity’s unity by quoting the Greek poets: “For we are indeed his offspring.” Taking a line originally referring to Zeus, Paul applies it to the true God to stress that all human beings are God’s offspring by virtue of creation.

Paul’s assertion that all nations derive “from one man” is not a throwaway anthropological aside. It is an explicit reaffirmation of the biblical doctrine of imago Dei. As the Watchmen Council have shown elsewhere, the New Testament regularly ties the language of “children” and “offspring” of God to image-bearing (cf. Acts 17:28–29; Genesis 1:26–27) and does so in a natural sense, not in any redemptive or ontologically tiered hierarchy.

This has direct implications for racial anthropology. The fact that all humans are descended from Adam and, post-flood, Noah (Gen 9:19), means that there is no biblical basis for viewing different “races” as ontologically distinct or sanctification-tiered. God’s purpose in providentially arranging human settlement patterns—including multicultural societies and imperial configurations—is not to preserve spiritual disparity, but to draw all people to Himself (Acts 17:27). As D.A. Carson emphasizes:

“This means that the one God rules over all, governing all people, their nations and their history… Thus not only is there no room for racism or elitist tribalism, but one of the entailments of monotheism is that if there is one God, he must in some sense be God of all, whether acknowledged or not.”
— The Gagging of God, Kindle loc. 11484

In the biblical sense, to be “offspring” of God is akin to being made in God’s image (cf. Gen 1:27) – it means every human person, of whatever ethnicity, bears an inherent relation to God as His creature. Paul immediately draws the theological implication: if we are God’s offspring, we ought not to degrade God’s nature by depicting Him in idols (17:29). But wrapped up in that argument is a high view of human persons as God’s image-bearers. All nations share equally in this status as imago Dei.

When the Apostle Paul stood before the intellectual elite of Athens at the Areopagus, he employed a masterful theological strategy that both engaged with Greek thought and firmly established biblical truth. His approach to the “Unknown God” altar represents one of the most sophisticated examples of cross-cultural apologetics in the New Testament. This article examines Paul’s methodology, theological arguments, and rhetorical approach in Acts 17, revealing how he built bridges to his audience while uncompromisingly presenting the gospel.

The “Unknown God” altar that Paul referenced was not intended to honor the God of the Bible. Rather, as historical context reveals, “The shrine is meant to appease any deities they don’t know about. In the ancient world, deities controlled territories and elements. People wanted to appease them because it was thought they would be hostile if not. The inscription is just to generally unknown deities.”

Paul strategically uses this cultural element as a starting point, claiming that “they worship these gods in ignorance.” His approach is not to validate their polytheistic worship but to redirect it toward monotheistic truth. Paul “asserts monotheism as the answer in contradistinction to the polytheism and pantheism that floated among the Athenians.”

Paul establishes a monotheistic worldview by pointing to God as creator of everything. His argument is that “God is the God of all creation, including their false gods.” This theological foundation is critical because “Paul’s monotheism is grounded in the fact that God has created everything, and therefore everything shares a common creator.” This stands in stark contrast to Greek religious thought, where different deities governed different domains.

Paul emphasizes that “God is ‘Lord of heaven and earth, does not dwell in temples made with hands.'” This statement serves as “a pejorative against their thoughts, similar to Isaiah’s statements about idols.” By declaring God as universal sovereign, Paul challenges the limited territorial and functional deities of Greek religion.

Unlike the Greek gods who needed sacrifices, Paul presents a God who “isn’t dependent upon us for anything. If God creates everything and gives us everything, then what does he really need from us? In ancient times, deities used to eat sacrifices provided to them.” This concept of divine self-sufficiency (or aseity) would have been foreign to his audience, who were accustomed to reciprocal relationships with their deities.

D.A. Carson notes that “God is the God of aseity: He is not served by human hands, as if He needed anything (17:25). God is so utterly ‘from Himself’ that He does not need us; He is not only self-existent but utterly independent of His created order. The God of the Bible would not come to us whimsically; the cattle on a thousand hills are already His.”

Paul challenges Greek ethnic exceptionalism by asserting “that all humans have a common origin, different from the Greek perspective that men descended from different gods.” This was particularly confrontational to “the Athenians’ boast that they had originated from the soil of their Attic homeland and therefore were not like other men.” Instead, “Paul affirms the oneness of all people in their creation by one God and their descent from a common ancestor.”

This theological anthropology has profound implications, as Carson notes: “This contradicts notions of human descent that conjectured different ethnic groups came into being in different ways. Paul’s stance has wider implications: there is no trace of racism here. However much he holds that God has enjoyed a peculiar covenant relationship with Israel, Paul’s monotheism means that God is sovereign over all nations.”

Paul presents a God who is actively involved in human affairs: “Since all human life is dependent upon God, he also determines the time of our lives and where we are in our lives. This is reminiscent of when God sets boundaries in the OT (Dt. 32:9).”

Paul argues that God has “determined specific times (prostetagmenous kairous) for humanity and ‘the exact places where they should live’ (tas horothesias tēs katoikias, lit., ‘the boundaries of their habitation’), so that men and women ‘would seek him and find him’ (v. 27).” This divine purpose behind human history stands against the Greek view of fate or random chance.

Carson explains that “Paul introduces a certain view of time. Many Greeks thought that time went round in circles. Paul establishes a linear framework: creation at a fixed point; a long period in which God acted in a certain way; a now that is pregnant with massive changes; and a future (v. 31) that is the final termination of this world order, a time of final judgment.”

In a brilliant rhetorical move, Paul quotes from Greek poets to advance his argument. He cites the phrase that humans are God’s “offspring” but contextualizes it within biblical theology. As commentators explain:

“The poet will have understood these words in a pantheistic sense, but Paul appears to have viewed them in the light of the image of God theology in Genesis 1:26–27… He recognized that a search for God had been taking place in the Greco-Roman world, but condemned the result—the idolatry which was everywhere present and the ignorance of the true God which it betrayed (vv. 22–25). In short, he indicated that the search had been ineffective because of human blindness and stubbornness (cf. Rom. 1:18–32).” —Peterson, D. G. (2009). The Acts of the Apostles (pp. 499–500).

Scholars consistently note that Paul was not endorsing pantheism:

“In any case, this is not a pantheistic formula, or one that expresses the immanence of human beings in God; it merely formulates the dependence of all human life on God and its proximity to Him.” —J. Fitzmyer, Acts of the Apostles, 610.

“The Stoics connected life with movement (the Prime Mover being God) and movement with being. The en is an obvious example of the meaning ‘in the power of’; cf. Sophocles, Oedipus Coloneus 1443, tauta d’en to daimoni, and other examples given by Liddell and Scott. Begs. translates, ‘By him we live and move and are.'” —G. K. Barrett, Commentary on Acts, 2:847-48.

“God is not remote but accessible, so near as to constitute the environment in which we live, but in a personal sense. In the Greek philosophical background, the words will have had a pantheistic meaning, God being hardly anything other than our environment. The change is likely to have been made already in Jewish-Hellenistic use.” —G. K. Barrett, Commentary on Acts, 2:847-48.

Paul’s use of Greek poetry was strategic but not syncretistic:

“Paul is not suggesting by the use of such maxims that God is to be thought of in terms of the god Zeus of Greek polytheism or Stoic pantheism. Rather, he is arguing that the poets whom his hearers recognized as authorities have at least to some extent corroborated his message. In his search for a measure of common ground with his hearers, he is, so to speak, disinfecting and rebaptizing the words of two Greek poets for his own purposes. Quoting these Greek poets in support of his teaching sharpened his message for his particular audience. But despite its form, Paul’s address was thoroughly biblical and Christian in its content.” —Longenecker, Richard N. Acts (The Expositor’s Bible Commentary).

Bock provides additional insight on Paul’s approach:

“The text from Aratus, as Paul uses it, recognizes the shared relationship all people have to God. It also makes a more subtle point when the remark about being God’s children is repeated in verse 29: we are God’s creation; we do not create Him by making images of the gods (Witherington 1998: 530). Thus, the remark does express Paul’s view in this limited sense (pace J. Schneider, TDNT 3:718–19, who argues that this is not Paul’s view but a mere missionary accommodation). Paul contextualizes the citation and presents it in a fresh light, setting up his critique. He takes a Greek idea of the ‘spark of the divine being’ in us as tied to Zeus and speaks of being made as God’s children by the Creator, alluding to our being made in God’s image.” —Bock, Darrell L. Acts (Baker Exegetical Commentary on the New Testament).

Paul builds toward a powerful critique of idolatry, arguing that “we shouldn’t think of the Divine Nature as ‘gold or silver or stone, an image formed by the art and thought of man’ because they are products of man’s activity. Idols and temples are works of man. We know that God isn’t like them because we know those things come from us, but God doesn’t originate from human activity.”

His argument flows logically: “If we are made in God’s likeness, then how can idols and temples be like God if they aren’t even like us?” This reasoning brilliantly turns their own poetic tradition against idolatry, using the concept of divine offspring to demonstrate the absurdity of human-crafted idols.

Carson explains that this establishes “God’s transcendence without drifting toward deism. The God he has in mind is not far from each one of us (v. 27). He is immanent. Paul recognizes that some of this truth is acknowledged in some pagan religions. When Greek thought spoke of one ‘God,’ the assumption was often pantheistic, which Paul has ruled out. We live and move and have our being in this God, and we are His offspring—not in a pantheistic sense, but as an expression of God’s personal and immediate concern for our well-being.”

Paul’s entire presentation builds toward the gospel. His discourse “ends on the note that all this is vindicated by the fact that God has raised Christ from the dead and Christ will return to judge the world.” This resurrection proclamation connects his theological framework to the historical reality of Jesus Christ.

As Carson observes, “The massive changes of Paul’s dramatic now are bound up with the coming of Jesus and the dawning of the gospel. Paul has set the stage to introduce Jesus.” By establishing the biblical worldview first, Paul creates the necessary context for understanding sin, judgment, and salvation.

Carson concludes that “The entailment of this theology and anthropology is to clarify what sin is and make idolatry utterly reprehensible (v. 29). Paul cannot rightly introduce Jesus and his role as Savior until he establishes the problem. He elucidates the bad news from which the good news rescues us.”

There is no hint that some races reflect God more fully while others do not; on the contrary, Paul’s entire appeal rests on the universal fact that “all men are the offspring of God.” This directly contradicts Mahler’s racial essentialism. If every people is descended from one man and every person is God’s offspring, then all ethnic groups possess the same created dignity and are judged by the same moral standard. All are fallen in sin and “God now commands all people everywhere to repent” (Acts 17:30) – none get a special pass, and none are excluded. The moral and redemptive equality of all humanity is a core teaching of Acts 17. As one commentator succinctly puts it, Paul here “points out that from one man God made every nation” and thus affirms the shared humanity and accountability of all peoples before God. Any ideology, like Mahler’s, that assigns different spiritual worth or roles to races is flatly denied by the text. In Christ, the dividing lines of ethnicity are relativized: “There is neither Jew nor Greek… for you are all one in Christ Jesus” (Gal 3:28, cf. Acts 17:30–31). Paul’s Areopagus sermon, rather than teaching a hierarchy of nations, actually levels the field: everyone has the same problem (idolatrous ignorance and sin) and everyone is offered the same solution in the risen Christ (17:30–31). All humans, as God’s offspring, will be judged in righteousness by the one man God has appointed, Jesus (17:31), regardless of nation. Mahler’s concept of racial hierarchy in sanctification finds no support here – on the contrary, the doctrine of the imago Dei and the universality of the gospel call militates against any racial caste system.

Natural Theology and the Need For Revelation:

A final crucial flaw in Mahler’s interpretation is his epistemological foundation. Mahler leans on natural theology – inferring theological truths (even about racial order) from general revelation or nature’s providential order – but Paul’s Mars Hill discourse actually undermines any confidence in autonomous human philosophy apart from God’s special revelation. Cornelius Van Til and Greg Bahnsen have long pointed out that natural theology, when used apart from Scripture, inevitably falls into error due to human sin. Interestingly, Paul’s speech exemplifies this presuppositional insight. Paul does acknowledge general revelation (God’s creatorship, providence, and that we are His offspring), but only to show that the Athenians should have sought the true God. In reality, however, humanity’s natural religious knowledge had become a confused “groping in the dark” (17:27) due to idolatry. As Bahnsen notes, in Acts 17:27 even the finest pagan philosophers are “at best… grop[ing] in darkness after God,” and their failure to find Him is culpable, not innocent. The Athenians had fragments of truth from nature – enough to know that a divine Creator exists and that we are His offspring – yet they distorted that truth into idol worship. Paul’s entire approach is to confront them with special revelation: the fuller truth of God’s character, the call to repentance, and the resurrection of Christ (17:30–31). He does not validate any independent philosophical worldview or ethnic myth as a source of saving truth. In fact, whenever Paul cites the Greek poets, it is not to build a natural theology foundation but to expose the audience’s inconsistency and guilt before the revelation of the true God. Mahler’s attempt to read a racial doctrine out of general revelation (the existence of distinct nations) is a prime example of the error Van Til warned against: interpreting the data of nature apart from the interpretive light of Scripture.
Mahler’s epistemological mistake lies deeper than a misreading of Acts 17. It lies in his commitment to natural theology, the idea that divine truths—like racial sanctification disparities—can be read directly off the surface of history or derived from observed human trends. But Bahnsen shows that Paul’s Areopagus sermon is not a concession to natural theology. It is a presuppositional confrontation with pagan worldviews:

“Rather than trying to construct a natural theology… Paul’s approach was to accentuate the antithesis between himself and the philosophers. He never assumed a neutral stance, knowing that the natural theology of the Athenian philosophers was inherently a natural idolatry.”
— The Encounter of Jerusalem with Athens, 33

Bahnsen further insists:

“Paul quotes the pagan writers to manifest their guilt… Paul makes the point that even pagans… possess a knowledge of God which, though suppressed, renders them guilty before the Lord.”
— Ibid., 26

Paul’s use of pagan poetry—“for we are indeed his offspring”—is not a celebration of pagan insight. It is a rebuke of pagan ignorance. It presupposes what Romans 1 makes clear: that all humans know God and are without excuse, not because of racial epistemology or civilizational hierarchy, but because they are made in His image and live in His world.

What we see in Acts 17 is not Paul compromising the gospel, but rather demonstrating remarkable contextualization. His approach differs radically from his method in the synagogue at Pisidian Antioch (Acts 13:13ff.), where he focused on showing how Jesus fulfilled Old Testament prophecies. Such an approach would have been meaningless to an audience unfamiliar with the Hebrew Bible.

As D.A. Carson observes, Paul displays “courtesy and sensitivity, coupled with certain restraint” when addressing the Athenians. He begins by noting their religiosity without approving their religion as a salvific path. Paul strategically chooses expressions that initially connect with Stoic and Epicurean thought—the Stoics believed in human unity and a special relationship with God, while Epicureans opposed superstitious popular religion. As F.F. Bruce notes, in verse 17:25, we can “discern approximations to the Epicurean doctrine that God needs nothing from human beings and to the Stoic belief that he is the source of all life.”

Yet crucially, Paul maintains careful boundaries in these tactical alignments. Unlike James Barr, Paul never uses natural theology against biblical revelation. Even while finding points of connection with his audience, Paul introduced themes essential to the gospel that he knew would alienate many hearers. His restraint in alignment ensures he doesn’t compromise the gospel’s distinctiveness.

The encounter between the Apostle Paul and the philosophers of Athens at the Areopagus in Acts 17:16-34 represents one of the most significant moments of intellectual engagement in the New Testament. Far from being a model of cultural accommodation or the search for philosophical common ground, as some interpretations suggest, Paul’s address constitutes a systematic dismantling of Greek philosophical presuppositions and a radical presentation of the biblical worldview as the only coherent alternative.

I. The Intellectual Landscape of First-Century Athens

A. Athens as Philosophical Center

Though well past its golden age politically, first-century Athens remained the intellectual capital of the Mediterranean world. Its historical significance as the birthplace of Western philosophy and its continued role as an educational center made it a powerful symbol of human wisdom and achievement. The city’s landscape was dominated by temples, monuments, and academic institutions that reflected its intellectual heritage. The Acropolis with its magnificent Parthenon dedicated to Athena, the goddess of wisdom, stood as the physical embodiment of Athens’ intellectual pretensions.

The philosophical schools established by luminaries such as Plato and Aristotle continued to attract students from throughout the Roman Empire. The Agora, where Paul initially engaged in dialogue (Acts 17:17), functioned as both marketplace and intellectual forum, where ideas were exchanged alongside commodities. This setting—what Kenneth Dover has called “the department store of Athenian intellectual life”—provided the stage for different philosophical traditions to compete for adherents.

B. The Major Philosophical Schools

1. The Academy (Platonists)

Founded by Plato around 387 BC in a sacred grove dedicated to the hero Akademos, the Academy had undergone several transformations by the first century AD. After Plato’s death, the school passed through distinct phases:

The Old Academy under Speusippus and Xenocrates (347-270 BC), which developed Plato’s metaphysical speculations
The Middle Academy under Arcesilaus (270-240 BC), which turned toward philosophical skepticism
The New Academy under Carneades (160-110 BC), which developed sophisticated critiques of Stoic epistemology
The Late Academy, which by Paul’s time was moving toward Middle Platonism—a synthesis of Platonic ideas with elements of Aristotelianism, Pythagoreanism, and even Stoicism

Middle Platonism, as represented by figures like Plutarch and Philo of Alexandria, would have been the contemporary version of Platonism Paul encountered. This school emphasized:

The transcendence of the supreme God (identified with Plato’s Form of the Good)
The existence of intermediary divine beings between the supreme God and the material world
The immortality of the soul and its pre-existence
The body as an impediment to pure knowledge
Knowledge as recollection of eternal Forms glimpsed by the soul before birth
The ultimate goal of philosophy as assimilation to God through contemplation

Plato’s famous divided line and allegory of the cave, which distinguished between opinion about sensible objects and knowledge of eternal Forms, established an epistemological framework that profoundly influenced all subsequent Greek philosophy. His cosmological account in the Timaeus, describing the fashioning of the world by a divine craftsman (demiurge) according to eternal patterns, provided the dominant Greek alternative to both materialistic accounts of origins and biblical creation.

2. The Lyceum (Peripatetics – Aristotelians)

Founded by Aristotle in 335 BC after his departure from Plato’s Academy, the Lyceum (or Peripatos, named for its covered walking area) developed a philosophical approach that, while rooted in Platonic thought, emphasized empirical investigation and systematic categorization of knowledge.

By Paul’s time, the Peripatetic school had passed through several phases:

The original school under Aristotle and his successor Theophrastus (335-287 BC), characterized by wide-ranging empirical research
A period of decline after Theophrastus
Revival under Andronicus of Rhodes (first century BC), who organized and published Aristotle’s esoteric works
The commentator tradition that continued into Paul’s era, focusing on exegesis of Aristotle’s texts

Core Aristotelian doctrines included:

The eternal nature of the universe, with no absolute beginning
God as the “Unmoved Mover”—pure actuality and thought thinking itself, attracting the world through its perfection but not creating or directing it
Forms existing within, not separate from, physical objects
The soul as the form or actuality of the body—the first entelechy of a natural body having life potentially
The intellect (nous) distinguished into passive and active aspects, with the possibility of the active intellect surviving bodily death
Knowledge derived through abstraction from sensory experience rather than recollection of Forms
A comprehensive system of logic that established rules for valid argumentation
Ethical virtue as the middle way between extremes, achieved through habituation
Politics as the natural extension of ethics, with the polis as the environment for human flourishing

While less culturally prominent than Stoicism and Epicureanism in the first century, Aristotelian concepts had become part of the intellectual framework of the Hellenistic world and would have been familiar to well-educated Athenians.

3. The Garden (Epicureans)

Founded by Epicurus around 307 BC in his private garden outside Athens, this school developed a thoroughly materialistic philosophy aimed at achieving ataraxia (freedom from disturbance) through a properly scientific understanding of nature. Unlike the institutional structure of the Academy and Lyceum, the Epicurean Garden operated more as an intentional community with philosophical underpinnings.

Epicurean philosophy, which explicitly opposed both religious superstition and Platonic-Aristotelian metaphysics, taught:

Atomistic materialism derived from Democritus—everything, including the human soul, consists of atoms moving in the void
The existence of innumerable worlds formed by random atomic collisions
The gods as existing but utterly uninvolved in human affairs—themselves composed of very fine atoms residing in the intermundia (spaces between worlds)
A strict determinism slightly modified by an unpredictable “swerve” (clinamen) in atomic motion to account for free will
Sensory perception as the foundation of all knowledge, with sensations themselves being infallible (errors arising only in interpretation)
Death as the complete dissolution of consciousness—”Death is nothing to us, since when we exist, death is not present; and when death is present, we do not exist”
Pleasure, defined negatively as the absence of physical pain (aponia) and mental disturbance (ataraxia), as the highest good
The rejection of political involvement in favor of friendship within a philosophical community
Religion as a primary source of human anxiety to be eliminated through scientific understanding

The Epicurean critique of religion, exemplified in Lucretius’ poem De Rerum Natura, was particularly scathing. The famous Epicurean tetrapharmakos (four-part cure) summarized their therapeutic philosophy: “God is not to be feared; death is not to be dreaded; the good is easy to obtain; the terrible is easy to endure.”

4. The Painted Porch (Stoics)

Founded by Zeno of Citium around 300 BC and named after the Stoa Poikile where they gathered, the Stoic school had developed through several phases:

Early Stoicism under Zeno, Cleanthes, and Chrysippus (300-206 BC), which established the foundational doctrines
Middle Stoicism under Panaetius and Posidonius (185-51 BC), which adapted Stoicism to Roman sensibilities
Late Stoicism in the Roman period, represented by figures like Seneca, Epictetus, and eventually Marcus Aurelius

Stoicism was particularly influential among the Roman elite of Paul’s time and represented perhaps the most sophisticated alternative to the Christian worldview. Core Stoic doctrines included:

Materialistic pantheism—God (Zeus or Logos) as the rational, seminal fire (pneuma) permeating all things
The universe as a single, rational, living organism animated by the divine pneuma
Deterministic fatalism—everything happens according to divine providence (pronoia), which is identified with natural causality
Cyclical cosmology—the universe periodically consumed by fire (ekpyrosis) and reborn in exactly the same form
The human soul as a fragment of the divine fire, a “spark” of the cosmic reason
The soul surviving bodily death temporarily but ultimately reabsorbed into the divine fire
Knowledge possible through “kataleptic impressions”—clear and distinct perceptions that compel assent
A distinction between things in our control (primarily our judgments and volitions) and things not in our control
Virtue as the only true good, achieved by living “according to nature” (kata phusin)
Emotions (pathe) as cognitive errors to be eliminated through rational discipline
The ideal of the sage who achieves apatheia (freedom from disturbing passions)
Cosmopolitanism—all humans as citizens of one world-city under common law
Ethics based on oikeiosis—the natural process of appropriation by which living beings recognize and care for what belongs to them, expanded through reason to encompass all humanity

The Stoic understanding of divine immanence, expressed in the famous hymn to Zeus by Cleanthes (partially quoted by Paul in Acts 17:28), stood in stark contrast to both Epicurean divine disinterest and the biblical conception of divine transcendence.

5. Cynics

Though not explicitly mentioned in Acts 17, Cynic philosophers were ubiquitous street preachers in first-century cities and would have formed part of the philosophical landscape Paul encountered. Founded by Antisthenes and made famous by Diogenes of Sinope (the legendary figure who lived in a barrel and carried a lamp in daylight “looking for an honest man”), Cynicism advocated:

Radical rejection of conventional values, social norms, and material possessions
Autarkeia (self-sufficiency) as the path to virtue
Freedom through minimizing desires rather than satisfying them
The practice of anaideia (shamelessness) to demonstrate the arbitrary nature of social conventions
Cosmopolitanism expressed through deliberate homelessness
Askesis (training) through voluntary hardship
Parrhesia (frank speech) regardless of social consequences

The Cynics’ confrontational street philosophy, with its emphasis on radical freedom and critique of social convention, provided a popular alternative to the more academic philosophical schools.

6. Skeptics

Pyrrhonian skepticism, systematized by Aenesidemus in the first century BC, represented another significant philosophical current. While not organized as a formal school, skepticism had profound influence on the Academy and provided a critical counterpoint to the dogmatic claims of the Stoics and Epicureans. Skeptical philosophy advocated:

Epochē (suspension of judgment) about all non-evident matters
The practice of opposing arguments of equal strength (isostheneia) to demonstrate the impossibility of certain knowledge
Ataraxia (tranquility) achieved not through positive knowledge but through recognizing the limits of knowledge
The rejection of all dogmatic philosophical systems
A practical life guided by appearances, customs, and nature without commitment to their ultimate truth

C. Philosophical Synthesis and Eclecticism

By the first century AD, strict adherence to any single philosophical school had become less common. Many thinkers adopted eclectic approaches, combining elements from different traditions. This syncretistic tendency reflected both a growing skepticism about the ability of any single philosophical system to provide complete answers and the cross-fertilization that occurred as Greek philosophy spread throughout the Mediterranean world.

Cicero exemplified this eclectic approach, drawing from Academic, Stoic, and Peripatetic traditions. Philo of Alexandria attempted to harmonize Greek philosophy (particularly Platonism) with Jewish Scripture. The movement toward philosophical syncretism was accelerated by:

The spread of Greek culture throughout the Mediterranean following Alexander’s conquests
Roman pragmatism, which valued philosophical ideas for their practical utility rather than systematic coherence
Growing religious influences from Eastern mystery cults
The declining confidence in pure reason’s ability to resolve fundamental questions

This philosophical uncertainty is reflected in Luke’s observation that “all the Athenians and the foreigners who lived there would spend their time in nothing except telling or hearing something new” (Acts 17:21). Despite centuries of sophisticated philosophical inquiry, the intellectual elite of Athens remained restlessly searching for new ideas—what some describe as “skepticism, eclecticism, and resignation.”

D. Religious Context

Athens was famously filled with religious monuments and practices. Pausanias later wrote that Athens had more religious images than all the rest of Greece combined. This religious environment was characterized by:

Traditional polytheism with elaborate rituals and festivals
Mystery religions promising personal salvation
Hero cults honoring legendary and historical figures
Deified abstractions (e.g., Victory, Fortune, Peace)
Emperor worship integrated into civic religion
Philosophical reinterpretation of traditional religion

The philosophical elite typically maintained a sophisticated double attitude toward traditional religion:

Outward conformity to religious rituals as socially necessary
Private reinterpretation of myths and practices in philosophical terms

For instance, Stoics would interpret the Olympic pantheon allegorically—Zeus representing cosmic reason, Hera the air, Poseidon the waters, etc. Epicureans maintained that the gods existed but redefined them as material beings utterly uninvolved in human affairs, rendering traditional worship superfluous. Academic philosophers might justify traditional practices while privately holding skeptical views about their efficacy.

The presence of numerous altars, including one “to an unknown god,” reflected both religious anxiety and philosophical uncertainty. This altar, which played a crucial role in Paul’s rhetoric, embodied the fundamental epistemological insecurity at the heart of Athenian intellectual culture. Despite their sophisticated philosophical systems, the Athenians had achieved only “skepticism, eclecticism, and resignation.”

II. Paul’s Encounter with Athens: Setting and Initial Response

A. Paul’s Intellectual Preparation

Paul’s background uniquely prepared him for this confrontation with Greek philosophy. As a Jew from Tarsus in Cilicia, educated under Gamaliel in Jerusalem, Paul embodied the intersection of Jewish and Hellenistic cultures:

Tarsus was itself an important center of learning, particularly known for Stoic philosophy (the Stoic Athenodorus had taught there)
As a Roman citizen, Paul would have been exposed to Greco-Roman education
His training under Gamaliel would have included not only thorough grounding in the Hebrew Scriptures but also awareness of Greek philosophical ideas for apologetic purposes
His command of Greek and familiarity with Greek literature is evident in his quotation of pagan poets both in Acts 17:28 and elsewhere (Titus 1:12)

This preparation enabled Paul to engage with the intellectual stronghold of the ancient world not as a naive outsider but as someone who understood both the attractions and failures of Greek philosophy. Importantly, however, Paul approached Athens not as a neutral philosophical inquirer but as one whose understanding had been radically transformed by divine revelation.

B. Paul’s Emotional and Spiritual Response

When Paul entered Athens, “his spirit was provoked within him as he beheld the city full of idols” (Acts 17:16). The Greek term for “provoked” (παρωξύνετο/paroxyneto) is significant:

It is the same word used in the Septuagint for God’s anger at Israel’s idolatry
It indicates not mild disapproval but deep spiritual outrage
It reveals Paul’s fundamental non-neutrality toward pagan thought
It establishes the moral and spiritual dimensions of philosophical disagreement

This response demonstrates what Greg Bahnsen calls “the non-neutrality of the Christian apologist.” Paul recognized that the philosophical systems of Athens were not merely abstract intellectual constructions but expressions of spiritual rebellion against the Creator. His reaction was not that of an academician encountering interesting alternative viewpoints but of a covenant messenger confronting idolatry.

C. Initial Engagement and Opposition

Acts 17:17-18 describes Paul’s initial interaction with the Athenian intellectual community:

He reasoned in the synagogue with Jews and God-fearing Greeks
He engaged daily in the marketplace (agora) with anyone present
He specifically encountered Epicurean and Stoic philosophers

The philosophers’ initial reaction is telling:

They called him a “babbler” (σπερμολόγος/spermologos—literally “seed-picker”)
This term described birds that picked up seeds in the marketplace or, metaphorically, people who collected fragments of ideas without understanding them
They accused him of advocating “foreign divinities” because he preached “Jesus and the resurrection”
This charge ironically echoed the accusation against Socrates of introducing “new gods” to Athens

This dismissive response reveals the philosophers’ intellectual arrogance and their fundamental misunderstanding of Paul’s message. They categorized him according to their existing framework—either as an intellectual dilettante or as an advocate for new deities to add to the pantheon. Both characterizations fundamentally missed the radical challenge Paul presented to their entire worldview.

III. The Areopagus Address: Paul’s Comprehensive Critique of Greek Philosophy

The setting of Paul’s formal address is significant. The Areopagus (Mars Hill) had historically been the site of Athens’ most venerable court and council. By Paul’s time, it continued to exercise jurisdiction over religious and educational matters. Whether Paul was formally summoned or informally invited, his appearance before this body represented an encounter between biblical revelation and the intellectual establishment of the ancient world.

A. Rhetorical Strategy: Beginning with Acknowledged Ignorance

Paul begins with what appears to be a captatio benevolentiae (an effort to capture goodwill) but actually constitutes a subtle critique: “Men of Athens, I perceive that in every way you are very religious” (17:22). The term δεισιδαιμονεστέρους (deisidaimonesterous) is deliberately ambiguous:

It could mean “very religious” in a positive sense
It could also mean “rather superstitious” in a negative sense
This ambiguity establishes a rhetorical tension maintained throughout the speech

Paul immediately focuses on the altar inscribed “TO AN UNKNOWN GOD” (17:23). This reference serves multiple rhetorical functions:

It demonstrates Paul’s observant engagement with Athenian culture
It provides an entrée to his proclamation of the true God
Most importantly, it establishes the Athenians’ own admission of ignorance as his starting point

This altar was not merely one religious monument among many but represented what Bahnsen calls “an internal critique of the Athenian worldview.” The existence of such altars (attested by ancient writers like Pausanias, Philostratus, and Diogenes Laertius) revealed a fundamental epistemological insecurity—the Athenians worshipped what they explicitly acknowledged as unknown.

As one Bahnsen explains: “Paul did not attempt to supplement or build upon a common foundation of natural theology with the Greek philosophers here. He began, rather, with their own expression of theological inadequacy and defectiveness. He underscored their ignorance and proceeded from that significant epistemological point.”

This approach exemplifies presuppositional apologetics by:

Starting with an internal contradiction in the non-Christian worldview
Refusing to grant intellectual autonomy to human reasoning
Establishing the futility of autonomous thought from the outset

B. Confronting Greek Conceptions of God: The Critique of Theological Ignorance

From this starting point of acknowledged ignorance, Paul launches a comprehensive critique of Greek theological conceptions.

1. God as Creator vs. Greek Cosmologies

“The God who made the world and everything in it, being Lord of heaven and earth…” (17:24a)

This simple declaration fundamentally contradicts multiple Greek philosophical positions:

Against Epicurean atomism: The universe did not form through random collision of eternal atoms but was made by a personal Creator
Against Aristotelian eternalism: The world is not eternally existent but was created
Against Stoic pantheism: God is not identical with the world but stands as Lord over it
Against Platonic demiurgism: God did not merely organize pre-existent matter according to eternal forms but made everything

Paul’s use of the term “world” (κόσμος/kosmos) is particularly significant, as this term had rich philosophical connotations in Greek thought, typically referring to the ordered universe admired for its beauty and rational structure. By asserting God’s creation of the kosmos, Paul claims that the very order admired by Greek philosophers derived not from impersonal principles but from a personal Creator.

2. Divine Transcendence vs. Localized Deities

“…does not live in temples made by man, nor is he served by human hands, as though he needed anything…” (17:24b-25a)

This declaration challenges both popular Greek religion and philosophical justifications for it:

Against temple worship: God cannot be localized in human structures
Against sacrificial practices: God has no needs that humans can fulfill
Against the Greek conception of reciprocity between gods and humans: God is not dependent on human service

While educated Greeks might have intellectually agreed with the critique of anthropomorphic religion, most maintained the necessity of traditional practices for social cohesion or aesthetic value. Paul’s critique cuts deeper, undermining not just naive religious understanding but sophisticated philosophical accommodations with traditional practice.

3. Divine Providence vs. Epicurean and Stoic Alternatives

“…since he himself gives to all mankind life and breath and everything. And he made from one man every nation of mankind to live on all the face of the earth, having determined allotted periods and the boundaries of their dwelling place…” (17:25b-26)

This assertion of divine sovereignty over history challenges both major philosophical schools:

Against Epicurean denial of divine involvement: God actively sustains human life and determines historical developments
Against Stoic deterministic fate: History is guided not by impersonal natural law but by personal divine purpose
Against Greek particularism: All nations share a common origin and exist under divine sovereignty

The statement that God “determined allotted periods and the boundaries” establishes divine sovereignty over both chronological history (periods) and geographical distribution (boundaries). This directly contradicts the Greek cyclical view of history and challenges the cultural superiority assumed by Athenian intellectuals.

4. Divine Purpose vs. Philosophical Nihilism or Naturalism

“…that they should seek God, and perhaps feel their way toward him and find him. Yet he is actually not far from each one of us…” (17:27)

Here Paul establishes:

Teleology: Human existence has an inherently religious purpose
Divine accessibility: God can be known despite human blindness
Divine immanence alongside transcendence: God is near to humans despite not being dependent on them

The image of humans “feeling their way” (ψηλαφήσειαν/psēlaphēseian) toward God employs the same Greek term used in the Septuagint for blind men groping along a wall (Isaiah 59:10). This vividly illustrates the inadequacy of human reason apart from revelation while simultaneously affirming that such groping occurs not because God is distant but because humans are spiritually blind.

This critique applies to all the philosophical schools:

Against Epicurean hedonism: Life’s purpose is not pleasure but knowing God
Against Stoic self-sufficiency: Virtue is not achieved through autonomous reason but through relationship with God
Against Academic skepticism: Knowledge of ultimate reality is possible, though not through unaided human reason

C. The Critique of Greek Anthropology: Dependence vs. Autonomy

Paul continues by addressing the fundamental human condition: “For ‘In him we live and move and have our being’; as even some of your own poets have said, ‘For we are indeed his offspring'” (17:28).

1. Recontextualizing Pagan Insights

Paul quotes two pagan sources:

“In him we live and move and have our being” – from Epimenides the Cretan’s hymn to Zeus
“For we are indeed his offspring” – from Aratus’s poem “Phaenomena” (also echoed in Cleanthes’ “Hymn to Zeus”)

These quotations do not represent Paul’s endorsement of Greek religious conceptions but serve a more sophisticated rhetorical purpose. As Bahnsen explains:

“Paul’s quotation of pagan poets does not stand ‘as proof in the same way as biblical quotations in the other speeches of Acts’… Paul quotes the pagan writers to manifest their guilt. Since God is near at hand to all men, since His revelation impinges on them continually, they cannot escape a knowledge of their Creator and Sustainer. They are without excuse for their perversion of the truth.”

This approach exemplifies what Cornelius Van Til calls the “point of contact” in presuppositional apologetics—not neutral common ground but the knowledge of God that unbelievers simultaneously possess and suppress. As Van Til is quoted saying:

“They could say this adventitiously only. That is, it would be in accord with what they deep down in their hearts knew to be true in spite of their systems. It was that truth which they sought to cover up by means of their professed systems, which enabled them to discover truth as philosophers and scientists.”

2. Divine Image vs. Philosophical Anthropologies

Paul draws a radical conclusion from these poetic acknowledgments: “Being then God’s offspring, we ought not to think that the divine being is like gold or silver or stone, an image formed by the art and imagination of man” (17:29).

This argument inverts the typical Greek approach to divinity. Rather than humans creating divine images based on their imagination, the true relationship is the reverse—humans are created in God’s image. This:

Invalidates idolatry intellectually as well as religiously
Establishes human dignity based on divine creation rather than philosophical abstraction
Challenges both materialism (which reduces humans to atoms) and pantheism (which dissolves human distinctiveness)

While educated Greeks typically rejected crude anthropomorphism, most justified traditional religious imagery on pragmatic or symbolic grounds. Paul’s critique cuts deeper, showing that the very concept of crafted divine images contradicts what Greeks unwittingly acknowledged about the Creator-creature relationship.

D. The Critique of Greek Ethics and Eschatology: Accountability vs. Autonomy

Paul culminates his address with a radical challenge to Greek ethical and eschatological assumptions:

“The times of ignorance God overlooked, but now he commands all people everywhere to repent, because he has fixed a day on which he will judge the world in righteousness by a man whom he has appointed; and of this he has given assurance to all by raising him from the dead” (17:30-31).

1. Divine Command vs. Philosophical Ethics

The statement that “God commands all people everywhere to repent” establishes:

Universal moral accountability to divine authority
The insufficiency of philosophical ethics based on human reason or nature
The diagnosis of philosophical ignorance as culpable, requiring repentance

This directly challenges:

Epicurean ethical hedonism, which defined the good as pleasure
Stoic ethical naturalism, which defined the good as living according to nature and reason
Academic ethical skepticism, which questioned the possibility of certain knowledge about ethical matters

Paul presents ethics not as a matter of rational deliberation about natural goods but as obedience to divine command. This reframes the entire ethical project of Greek philosophy as an expression of autonomy requiring repentance rather than refinement.

2. Divine Judgment vs. Greek Eschatologies

The declaration of a fixed day of future judgment contradicts various Greek conceptions of destiny:

Against Epicurean materialism: Death is not the end of moral accountability
Against Stoic eternal recurrence: History is not cyclical but moves toward a definite terminus
Against Platonic transmigration: The soul does not simply move to another body but faces divine judgment

The appointment of a specific man as judge further contradicts Greek conceptions by:

Establishing judgment as personal rather than impersonal natural consequences
Connecting metaphysical truth with historical particularity
Centralizing judgment in a single divine representative rather than dispersing it through natural processes

3. Resurrection vs. Greek Conceptions of Body and Soul

The climactic reference to resurrection directly confronts Greek dualism. For Greeks influenced by Platonic thought, the body represented an impediment to the soul’s true fulfillment. The concept of bodily resurrection would have been not merely intellectually problematic but aesthetically and morally repugnant—why would anyone want to return to bodily existence after escaping it?

This explains the immediate mockery by some hearers (17:32). The resurrection challenged:

The Platonic-Orphic conception of the body as the soul’s prison
The Epicurean reduction of the person to material atoms that disperse at death
The Stoic view of individual souls being eventually reabsorbed into the divine fire

By grounding his entire argument in the historical fact of Christ’s resurrection, Paul presents not merely an alternative philosophical position but a radically different understanding of reality based on divine revelation and historical intervention.

IV. Philosophical Implications: The Comprehensive Challenge to Greek Thought

Paul’s Areopagus address systematically challenges the foundational assumptions of Greek philosophy across multiple domains. This comprehensive critique reveals the radical nature of the Christian worldview in contrast to all forms of autonomous human reasoning.

A. Epistemological Challenge: Revelation vs. Autonomous Reason

1. The Limits of Human Reasoning

Paul’s address exposes the fundamental inadequacy of autonomous human reasoning to attain knowledge of God. Despite centuries of sophisticated philosophical inquiry, the Athenians remained in acknowledged ignorance—symbolized by the altar “TO AN UNKNOWN GOD.” This ignorance was not incidental but structural, resulting from the attempt to know God through autonomous reason rather than through submission to divine revelation.

The description of humans “feeling their way” toward God employs a metaphor of blindness that challenges the Greek confidence in rational inquiry. Just as a blind person might touch objects without seeing them, autonomous reason might encounter aspects of truth without truly comprehending them. This explains how pagan poets could make statements about divine-human relationships that contained formal truth while fundamentally misunderstanding their meaning.

2. The Suppression of Truth

Paul’s approach demonstrates what Romans 1:18-32 explicitly teaches—that unbelief represents not the absence of knowledge but its active suppression. As Bahnsen notes, Paul’s mention of the Athenian altar exposed “the basic schizophrenia in unbelieving thought when he described in the Athenians both an awareness of God (v. 22) and an ignorance of God (v. 23).”

This analysis explains why philosophical systems that explicitly deny God nevertheless unwittingly presuppose his existence in their accounts of knowledge, ethics, and meaning. The pagan poets quoted by Paul manifest this phenomenon—formally acknowledging truths about divine-human relationships while embedding these acknowledgments in fundamentally false religious systems.

3. The Authority of Special Revelation

While addressing a pagan audience, Paul’s argument remains thoroughly grounded in biblical revelation. “His exposition and defense of his message are founded on the biblical revelation of God…. Unlike some later apologists who followed in his steps, Paul does not cease to be fundamentally biblical in his approach to the Greeks.”

This approach challenges the common apologetic assumption that the apologist must adjust his epistemological authority when addressing those who do not accept Scripture. Instead, Paul demonstrates that biblical revelation provides the necessary framework for interpreting both human experience and philosophical insights. His speech employs Old Testament language and concepts throughout, drawing particularly on creation theology and prophetic critiques of idolatry.

B. Metaphysical Challenge: Personal Creator vs. Impersonal First Principles

1. Divine Personality Against Philosophical Abstractions

Paul presents God not as an abstract first principle or impersonal force but as a personal Creator who acts purposefully in history. This directly challenges:

The Aristotelian Unmoved Mover, which causes motion by being the object of desire but does not itself act in history
The Stoic Logos, which represents rational order but lacks true personality
The Platonic Form of the Good, which transcends being itself and cannot engage directly with the material world

By describing God as determining historical periods and geographical boundaries for nations, Paul presents divine sovereignty as personal and purposeful rather than abstract and impersonal. The God who “commands all people everywhere to repent” is not an impersonal principle but a personal lawgiver and judge.

2. Creation Ex Nihilo vs. Greek Cosmologies

The declaration that God “made the world and everything in it” implies creation ex nihilo (from nothing), which fundamentally contradicts all Greek cosmologies:

Against eternal matter: The physical world is not simply organized from pre-existing materials but created
Against necessary emanation: The world does not flow from divine nature by necessity but results from divine choice
Against the eternity of the cosmos: The world has a definite beginning rather than existing eternally

This doctrine establishes an absolute distinction between Creator and creation that undermines both materialistic reductionism and pantheistic identification of God with the world. It provides the metaphysical foundation for Paul’s critique of idolatry—the divine nature is utterly different from “gold or silver or stone, an image formed by the art and imagination of man” (17:29).

3. Divine Providence vs. Fate or Chance

Paul’s assertion that God actively gives “life and breath and everything” and determines historical developments presents an understanding of divine providence that challenges both major philosophical alternatives:

Against Epicurean chance: History is not governed by random atomic collisions but by divine purpose
Against Stoic fate: Events are determined not by impersonal natural necessity but by personal divine will

This understanding of providence establishes the meaningfulness of historical particularity—specific events matter not merely as instances of universal principles but as unique expressions of divine purpose. This provides the metaphysical foundation for Paul’s emphasis on the particular historical event of the resurrection as the basis for universal truth claims.

Linear History vs. Cyclical Time

Paul introduces a radically different understanding of time from the prevailing Greek view. Against the Greek concept of cyclical time, Paul presents a linear framework: creation at a defined starting point, a long period of God’s forbearance, a present moment of dramatic change with the coming of Jesus, and a future endpoint in divine judgment.

History in Paul’s view is not endlessly repeating cycles but teleological—moving purposefully toward “the day when he will judge the world with justice” (17:31). There are meaningful developments within history, including the shift from God’s forbearance of pagan nations to the present command that “all people everywhere to repent” (17:30).

The Resurrection and Direct Challenge to Greek Philosophy

Only after establishing an entire worldview and philosophy of history does Paul introduce Jesus, focusing on his resurrection as God’s validation of him as the appointed judge. In doing so, Paul directly confronts neo-Platonic dualism that pervaded Greek thought. If the spiritual realm is good and the physical world inferior, it would be inconceivable that God would raise someone to physical life. This explains why some sneered at this point (v.32).

Yet Paul refuses to compromise this essential truth even knowing it would alienate many listeners. His insistence on Christ’s bodily resurrection aligns perfectly with his declaration in 1 Corinthians: “if Christ has not been raised, our preaching is useless and so is your faith” (1 Cor 15:14). Paul will not sacrifice gospel truth to make it compatible with the surrounding culture.

What we see in Acts 17 is not Paul embracing autonomous natural theology but rather engaging in what Van Til and Bahnsen might call presuppositional confrontation with pagan worldviews. Paul acknowledges elements of general revelation (God’s creatorship, providence, and human dependence) but only to demonstrate that the Athenians should have sought the true God.

Their failure to find God despite these revelations was culpable, not innocent. Even their finest philosophers were “groping in darkness after God” (17:27), and Paul’s entire approach confronts them with special revelation: God’s true character, the call to repentance, and the resurrection of Christ (17:30-31).

When Paul cites Greek poets, it’s not to validate their independent philosophical insights but to expose their inconsistency and guilt before the true God. As Bahnsen notes: “Paul quotes the pagan writers to manifest their guilt… Paul makes the point that even pagans… possess a knowledge of God which, though suppressed, renders them guilty before the Lord.”

Paul’s reference to the “unknown God” altar (17:23) represents a brilliant rhetorical entry point rather than an endorsement of paganism. These altars likely reflected animistic anxieties in pagan culture—a recognition that there might be powers beyond what they knew, and a desire to appease them just to be safe. Paul seizes this admission of incomplete knowledge to introduce the God who has definitively revealed himself.

Contrary to Alan Race’s claim that Paul “acknowledges the authenticity of the worship of the men of Athens at their altar ‘to an unknown God,'” Paul is actually challenging their ignorance. The unknown God isn’t equated with the God of the Bible. The shrine was meant to appease any unnamed deities they might have overlooked, reflecting the ancient view that territorial deities would be hostile if not properly honored. The inscription served as a general safeguard against overlooked divinities.

Paul’s argument is that they worship these gods in ignorance, and he proceeds to assert monotheism as the corrective to the polytheism and pantheism prevalent among the Athenians. He is not validating their worship but using it as a starting point to confront their fundamental misunderstanding of divine reality.

Paul systematically challenges core elements of Epicurean and Stoic philosophy. Against the Epicurean ideal of detached, uninvolved deities, Paul presents God as actively engaged with the world as Creator, providential Ruler, Judge, and self-disclosing Savior. In opposition to Stoic pantheism, Paul portrays God as personal, distinct from creation, and our final Judge. Rather than emphasizing “universal reason tapped into by human reasoning,” Paul contrasts divine sovereignty with human dependence.

When Paul quotes pagan poets in verse 28 (“For we are indeed his offspring”), he’s not endorsing their pantheistic worldview but rather using their own cultural references to advance his argument. Pinnock overreaches when he interprets this as Paul celebrating “the fact that such people as this have insight into the truth of God and his ways.” Paul is not suggesting that the pagan poets were saved or acceptable to God based on partial insights.

As commentators note, Paul is “disinfecting and rebaptizing” these quotes for his own purposes. The Stoics connected this concept to Zeus in a pantheistic framework, but Paul recontextualizes it to express humanity’s dependence on God and our proximity to Him. It’s not a pantheistic formula but rather a recognition of our created status.

While affirming that common grace and general revelation mean “elements of truth and goodness” exist in every culture, this does not imply salvation. As Peterson explains: “The poet will have understood these words in a pantheistic sense, but Paul appears to have viewed them in the light of the image of God theology in Genesis 1:26–27.” Paul acknowledges some truth in pagan culture while condemning the result—idolatry and ignorance of the true God.

Paul introduces God as fundamentally separate from the universe—as Creator (“he made the world and everything in it,” 17:24), sovereign Lord (“Lord of heaven and earth,” 17:24), and transcendent being who “does not live in temples built by hands” (17:24). In verse 25, he emphasizes divine aseity: God “is not served by human hands, as if he needed anything, because he himself gives all men life and breath and everything else.” This establishes that God sustains life and rules providentially, while being completely self-sufficient and independent.

By grounding his monotheism in creation, Paul asserts that everything, including their false gods, falls under the authority of the one true God. The phrase “does not dwell in temples made with hands” functions as a pointed critique of their beliefs, similar to Isaiah’s polemic against idols.

To ground racial sanctification theories in “general revelation,” as Mahler does, is not only a misreading of Acts 17, but a category error. Natural revelation is sufficient for condemnation, not for establishing redemptive hierarchies. As Bahnsen notes, “Pseudo-religion witnesses to the truth of God in its apostasy,” not its accuracy.
According to Bahnsen, “where natural revelation plays a part in Christian apologetics, that revelation must be ‘read through the glasses’ of special revelation.” Mahler fails to do this. He seizes on the fact of plural nations (a result of providence in history) but, divorcing it from the Bible’s context, he ascribes a meaning to it that Scripture pointedly refutes – namely, that God intended those divisions to establish a racial-spiritual hierarchy.

Reading nature without “the glasses” of God’s Word, Mahler ends up exalting exactly what Paul’s gospel was given to tear down: pride in one’s flesh. Van Til would remind us that sin warps human interpretation of general revelation, often turning it into an idolatrous ideology. In Mahler’s case, a misguided natural-theology of race elevates “blood and soil” to a quasi-ultimate value, which Paul would label a form of idolatry (cf. 17:29, replacing the glory of the true God with an image of man’s own making).
Mahler’s Christian nationalism downplays, if not outright denies, God’s providential use of empire and multicultural blending. But Acts 17 cuts against this. God has not only created the nations from one source but has “determined the times and boundaries” of their habitation (v. 26). This includes the rise and fall of empires, the scattering and regrouping of peoples, and the mixing of ethnicities—all so that they might “seek God.”

There is no Pauline endorsement here for ethnic preservation as a redemptive ideal. The goal is not racial segregation, but repentance. As Carson writes:

“Paul insists he is introducing the God who is known, the God who has revealed himself… History is teleological; it is pressing on in one direction, to the day of final judgment.”
— The Gagging of God, Kindle loc. 11484

God’s providential placement of people groups is missional, not hierarchical.

When Paul comments that “In the past God overlooked such ignorance, but now he commands all people everywhere to repent” (17:30), he isn’t suggesting that God excused their guilt through ignorance. Pinnock incorrectly takes this “overlooking” to mean God didn’t charge with guilt those who failed to trust him out of ignorance.

Such an interpretation would imply that the Athenians were better off before hearing Paul’s message—nicely spared blame due to ignorance but now held accountable. Rather, Paul means that God graciously refrained from immediate judgment despite their culpable ignorance. He “left the sins committed beforehand unpunished” (Rom 3:25) in his forbearance. Now, however, as salvation has been brought near through Christ, judgment has also drawn closer.

Conclusion. In sum, a faithful exegesis of Acts 17:26–31 flatly contradicts Mahler’s providentialist racial theory. Paul’s Areopagus sermon proclaims the unity of all peoples in creation (one ancestor, one Creator) and the universality of God’s redemptive call in Christ, leaving no place for racial essentialism or hierarchy. The “times” and “boundaries” of nations are acts of God’s governance, yes – but they serve the unfolding of His plan to bring all nations to seek Him, not to keep them segregated or to privilege one over another. Scholarly commentators across the board affirm that Paul’s intent was to reveal God’s universal lordship and the shared status of all humanity, not to entrench human divisions. Those who, like Mahler, have used this text to prop up notions of ethnic separation or Christian-nationalist superiority have “not only missed its point but succumbed to [its] negative verdict,” as Keener puts it. In God’s eyes, there is no master race or holy nation apart from the multinational body of Christ itself (Eph 2:14–16, Rev 7:9). All people stand equally creation-dependent and sin-guilty before God, and all are invited into the same salvation by union with the true Offspring of God, Jesus Christ. Any theology that implies a racial hierarchy in holiness or worthiness stands outside the gospel Paul preached. Acts 17 teaches us that God “has fixed a day” to judge all the world by Jesus (17:31) – a judgment that will no more spare the self-exalting nation than the self-exalting individual. Thus, Christian theology must reject the misuse of God’s providence to sanctify racial pride. In the light of Scripture, Mahler’s racialized natural theology collapses, while Paul’s proclamation at Mars Hill endures as a ringing affirmation of the one God, the one human race, and the one Savior of all. Truly, we are one blood, one offspring, called with one hope – in need of one Savior.

(b) Appeals to Natural Law and Science

Mahler appeals to IQ scores, crime rates, and cultural metrics to argue that blacks are sanctified less because their behavior reflects lesser divine moral shaping.

This collapses under scrutiny:

IQ tests are narrow, culturally loaded, and epistemically fragile. They primarily measure analytic processing speed, not wisdom, virtue, or spiritual maturity. Sanctification is not reducible to IQ curves. Intelligence is a complex, multidimensional reality. IQ testing tends to isolate narrow types of cognitive functioning (like verbal and mathematical reasoning), often failing to account for cultural context, education, nutrition, and linguistic background. The idea that IQ is a neutral, objective measurement collapses under scrutiny. Moreover, it is theologically reckless to associate spiritual maturity with cognitive performance, as if sanctification were the domain of intellectual elites. Scripture links sanctification with humility (Phil 2:3), dependence (John 15:5), and obedience (John 14:23)—not IQ metrics.
Scientific realism is not a neutral ground. Mahler assumes that scientific results are metaphysically final. But the pessimistic meta-induction shows that most past scientific theories (e.g., phlogiston, geocentrism) were discarded. Mahler treats scientific findings as straightforward mirrors of reality. But this confidence is undermined by the pessimistic meta-induction: most past scientific theories once thought true (e.g., geocentrism, ether theory, spontaneous generation) were eventually discarded. Why assume our current theories will fare any better? Why trust current ones without divine warrant?
The Quine–Duhem problem and theory-ladenness of observation reveal that data never speaks for itself. Mahler filters all behavior through a racial narrative and then uses that as proof of providence. Furthermore, the Quine–Duhem thesis shows that no theory is tested in isolation—observations are always filtered through a web of auxiliary assumptions. As such, no data-set can uniquely determine a theory (underdetermination). These insights unravel Mahler’s assumption that statistical trends or evolutionary psychology can yield direct theological insights about divine intent.
Theologically, this is backwards. Scripture interprets providence, not vice versa. We cannot infer divine intent from social patterns unless God has explicitly revealed that interpretation. While general revelation (Ps 19:1–4; Rom 1:20) undeniably testifies to God’s eternal power, divine nature, and created order, it does not yield specific doctrines of redemptive providence. Observing patterns in history, culture, or genetics and then inferring that God sanctifies one race more than another is a profound theological misstep. It commits what some reformed called the “false mysticism of history”—an attempt to discern the mind of God directly from the surface of providence, without the interpretive lens of divine revelation. But God’s providence is often inscrutable and nonlinear (Eccl 3:11). Scripture teaches that He works all things according to His will (Eph 1:11), but the pattern is often hidden from human sight and may even appear inverted to human wisdom (1 Cor 1:27–29). Providential outcomes cannot be reliably decoded from sociological data, IQ averages, or civilizational achievements. Such attempts risk collapsing into a functional epistemological is-ought fallacy: assuming that what is observable in fallen creation reflects what ought to be accepted as divine intention. Instead, only special revelation—Scripture—can rightly interpret the purposes of providence. And nowhere does Scripture teach a racially distributed model of sanctification. The Spirit sanctifies all who are in Christ (1 Cor 6:11; 2 Cor 3:18) without ethnic distinction (Gal 3:28). To assert otherwise is to conflate creaturely inference with divine decree and to ascribe moral-spiritual meaning to patterns God has not authorized us to interpret in that way.

Ecclesiastes 3:11 – “God has put eternity into man’s heart, yet so that he cannot find out what God has done from beginning to end.”

Mahler’s method reverses the flow of revelation: rather than starting with God’s Word and interpreting nature accordingly, he begins with social science and reads theology into it.

On the Misuse of Crime Statistics

Mahler’s appeal to racial disparities in crime statistics as evidence of lower sanctification potential is a category error. These data points describe trends among the unregenerate, not the sanctified. But sanctification, by definition, is the work of the Spirit in the regenerate (1 Cor 6:11; Gal 5:22–23). You cannot extrapolate spiritual capacity from patterns of behavior among those who do not yet know Christ.

Moreover, regeneration fundamentally alters the moral trajectory of a person. Paul doesn’t say, “Some of you were worse than others by race,” but “Such were some of you. But you were washed, you were sanctified” (1 Cor 6:11). Sanctification is not merely moral improvement but the transformative work of the Spirit, conforming all believers—regardless of ethnic background—into the image of Christ (Rom 8:29; 2 Cor 3:18).

By treating fallen cultural behavior as evidence of lesser sanctifiability, Mahler collapses the distinction between nature and grace. He effectively denies the power of regeneration to overcome inherited or environmental vice. In contrast, Scripture teaches that grace supersedes natural descent, and that God’s sanctifying power is not distributed along bloodlines, but by union with Christ through the Spirit.

Mahler briefly acknowledges that many polls report a high rate of Christian profession among black Americans, but he quickly dismisses this as irrelevant—rightly, in one sense, since profession alone does not equal possession of saving faith (Matt 7:21–23). However, this move reveals a double standard in his use of data. When polls support his thesis (e.g., crime rates, educational gaps), he treats them as indicative of deeper spiritual realities. But when they contradict his racial hierarchy narrative—such as widespread expressions of religious commitment among black communities—he casts them aside as superficial or meaningless.

This inconsistency is telling. If self-reported religious affiliation doesn’t prove sanctification (which is true), then neither do social dysfunctions disprove it. Mahler can’t have it both ways. Statistical patterns—whether moral or religious—are no substitute for theological categories like regeneration, union with Christ, or the indwelling of the Spirit. These are spiritual realities discerned not by demographic surveys, but by the fruit of the Spirit in those truly born again (Gal 5:22–24; Rom 8:9).

(c) Modal Logic and Philosophical Distraction

Mahler spends considerable time parsing modal distinctions—what is logically possible, metaphysically possible, nomologically possible, and so on. For example, he asks whether God can make a man pregnant—not to suggest divine limitation, but to illustrate that God does not violate the regularities He has sovereignly ordained, such as biological laws.

While this sort of modal reasoning has its place in philosophical theology, it ultimately becomes a diversion in this debate. The issue is not what God could do in some hypothetical sense, but what He has actually revealed about His intentions in sanctification. Mahler never produces any biblical law, covenantal principle, or redemptive-historical precedent to show that God has decreed or designed a racial hierarchy in the outworking of sanctifying grace.

As a result, his framework becomes an exercise in speculative metaphysics disconnected from biblical theology. It may have internal consistency, but theological coherence without exegetical grounding leads only to conjecture. Modal categories cannot bear the weight of doctrinal formulation apart from divine revelation. At best, Mahler’s framework shows what is nomologically conceivable given present biological or sociological trends—but it never establishes what is divinely intended or theologically normative.

And that’s the critical failure: what God allows in nature is not necessarily what He blesses in redemption. Without the interpretive control of Scripture, to infer God’s moral purposes from providential patterns is to commit a form of historical eisegesis—reading divine meaning into trends God has not explained. This is precisely what Scripture warns against (Deut. 29:29; Eccl. 3:11; Rom. 11:33–34).

4. Clarifying Mahler’s Actual Claim

Mahler contends that different ethnic groups receive varying degrees of sanctification, in the same way that individuals differ in spiritual growth. On the surface, this might seem plausible—after all, not every believer progresses at the same pace. But upon closer inspection, this argument fails for multiple reasons.

First, there is no biblical indication that group sanctification follows racial or ethnic lines. Scripture affirms that the Spirit distributes gifts and growth individually and sovereignly, not ethnically. “All these are empowered by one and the same Spirit, who apportions to each one individually as he wills” (1 Cor 12:11). The variability in sanctification seen among believers is personal, not tribal. Paul never says, “To Jews he gives more self-control, to Greeks more wisdom, and to Scythians less sanctification.” The New Testament simply does not frame the Spirit’s work in ethnic categories.

Second, Mahler blurs the line between providential outcomes and divine intention. It is true that different cultures and communities may manifest different external behaviors, and these can be influenced by factors like history, environment, or education. But Scripture nowhere teaches that such outcomes reflect God’s sanctifying design unless He explicitly says so. To move from “these people behave differently” to “God sanctifies these people differently” is to engage in unauthorized providential inference—a form of historical speculation that lacks revelatory warrant (Deut 29:29; Eccl 3:11).

Third, Mahler misrepresents the nature of sanctification itself. Biblical sanctification is rooted not in biology, but in union with Christ. Jesus says, “Whoever abides in me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit” (John 15:5). Paul writes, “If anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation” (2 Cor 5:17). To be sanctified is to be transformed through the indwelling of Christ’s Spirit—not through racial inheritance or ancestral predisposition. Mahler’s framework risks replacing the new creation with a naturalistic anthropology, reducing the supernatural work of the Spirit to the outworking of genetic or ethnic tendencies.

Ultimately, Mahler’s view is not a deduction from Scripture, but a projection of a cultural narrative onto divine providence. It imports sociological trends into theology without exegetical support, constructing a racialized model of sanctification that Scripture neither affirms nor permits. It is not the voice of God speaking through the Word, but the voice of man reading divine intent into the patterns of history.al deduction from Scripture, but a projection of a cultural narrative onto providence.

5. Theological and Moral Implications

Mahler attempts to deflect the charge of racial ecclesiology by appealing to Paul’s deep affection for the Jews in Romans 9:1–3, where Paul expresses anguish over their unbelief. But this analogy collapses under scrutiny. The only thing we can rightly infer from that text is that Paul deeply desired more Jews to come to know the God of their fathers. This is a godly and covenantal longing, not a racial preference rooted in ontological hierarchy. His grief flows from their estrangement from the promises—not from any assumption that they were uniquely suited for sanctification.

And crucially, Paul’s burden for Israel stands in direct contrast to Mahler’s framework. Paul is not dismissive of others’ sanctification, nor does he imply that Gentiles are second-class saints. On the contrary, Paul gave his life to proclaim Christ among the Gentiles, laboring to graft them into the people of God (Rom 15:16), and insisting that in Christ, there is no Jew or Greek (Gal 3:28). His aim was not to preserve ethnonational categories, but to form one divine new humanity (Eph 2:14–16), united in grace, growing together into the image of Christ (Rom 8:29).

Mahler reverses the logic of the gospel. Paul wanted unbelieving Jews to be included in the multi-ethnic body of Christ, not for ethnic distinctions to be preserved as gradients of spiritual potential. The new humanity is not a racial hierarchy—it is a resurrection reality. Any theology that suggests otherwise distorts Paul’s gospel, substituting bloodlines for union with Christ.

Moreover, Mahler misrepresents the purpose of Romans itself. The epistle was written, in large part, to unify a divided church—a congregation of Jewish and Gentile believers wrestling with issues of law, lineage, and identity (cf. Rom 14–15). Paul’s entire theological arc—from universal condemnation (Rom 3), to justification by faith (Rom 4–5), to the grafting metaphor (Rom 11), to the climactic call to mutual acceptance (Rom 15:7)—is designed to show that God has made one people in Christ, not two, and certainly not a spiritually tiered racial structure.

“For there is no distinction: all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God… and are justified by his grace as a gift.” (Rom 3:22–24)
“So we, though many, are one body in Christ, and individually members one of another.” (Rom 12:5)

Paul’s sorrow for unbelieving Israel does not support racial essentialism—it magnifies the urgency of inclusion. Romans 9 is not a text about ethnic superiority—it is about the tragedy of covenantal unbelief and the unmerited mercy of God in calling both Jews and Gentiles into one body (Rom 9:24; 15:8–12). To use it in defense of ethnic sanctification disparities is to twist Paul’s grief into a blueprint for division, and to undermine the very unity the gospel was written to establish.

Paul’s grief is covenantal, not racial.
Paul gloried in Gentile salvation (Rom 11:13–15) and never suggested they were sanctified less.
Any racial favoritism contradicts the gospel of grace (Gal 2:11–14).

6. Colossians 3: A Direct Refutation

Colossians 3:9–11 – “You have put on the new self… Here there is not Greek and Jew, circumcised and uncircumcised, barbarian, Scythian, slave, free; but Christ is all, and in all.”

This passage directly dismantles Mahler’s position:

The “new self” is not a different one for each ethnicity—it is a single identity rooted in Christ.
All are being renewed in knowledge after the image of the Creator, not after their ethnic potential.
The distinctions that Mahler elevates are the very ones Paul explicitly says are abolished in Christ.

Paul continues:

Colossians 3:12–14 – “Put on then, as God’s chosen ones… compassion, kindness, humility… and above all these put on love, which binds everything together in perfect harmony.”

These are the fruits of sanctification—and they are commanded without ethnic stratification.

Colossians 3:9–11 — The New Self and the Death of Racial Sanctificationism

“Do not lie to one another, since you have taken off the old self with its practices and have put on the new self, which is being renewed in knowledge according to the image of its Creator. Here there is not Greek and Jew, circumcised and uncircumcised, barbarian, Scythian, slave, free; but Christ is all, and in all.”
(Colossians 3:9–11)

This passage is devastating to Mahler’s thesis. His view—that God providentially sanctifies ethnic groups differently by design—is not just unbiblical; it is fundamentally anti-Pauline, anti-ecclesiological, and anti-Christological when placed alongside the doctrine of the new man.

1. New Creation Identity Is Not Racially Indexed

Paul presents believers as having decisively “put off” the old self and “put on the new self.” This is not moralism or gradual improvement—it’s a redemptive identity shift. The “old self” (ὁ παλαιὸς ἄνθρωπος) is the Adamic man—corrupted, alienated, and enslaved (Rom. 6:6; Eph. 4:22). The “new self” (τὸν νέον ἄνθρωπον) is the new humanity re-created in Christ (Eph. 2:15), the Last Adam (1 Cor. 15:45), who inaugurates the new creation.

This new identity transcends race, class, and culture. It does not obliterate natural distinctions, but renders them spiritually irrelevant to status, access, or potential for transformation.

Douglas Moo explains: “The ‘new self,’ the Christian community formed by and in Christ, transcends the boundaries of religious background, ethnicity, and social status—and any other ‘boundary’ drawn from this world that we might like to draw.”

In other words, whatever sociological distinctions exist among people groups, they are not reflected in God’s sanctifying intent. The new self is being renewed in “knowledge” (ἐπίγνωσις)—a term that in Colossians is deeply moral and relational (cf. 1:9–10; 2:2–3)—after the image of the One who created him. This is Eden and Eschaton coming together.

2. The Renewal is Divine, Irreversible, and Universal Among Believers

Paul’s phrase “which is being renewed” (ἀνακαινούμενον) is a divine passive. Believers are not renewing themselves—God is doing the renewing. Beale highlights that this echoes Genesis 1:26–27: just as Adam and Eve were created by God, not self-fashioned, so too the new humanity is God’s act.

Beale writes: “It is God, not their own independent efforts, who has unclothed them, stripping off their ‘old man,’ and has made them a new man who is being renewed… Being in God’s image is linked with knowing him and his will.”

Mahler’s racial model of sanctification suggests a kind of spiritual caste system—some are renewed slowly, others more fully, and this is traced back to biological stock. But that collapses under Paul’s logic:

The renewal is in the image of the Creator, not in accordance with heredity or capacity.
The pattern of renewal is not ethnically tailored; it is Christologically determined.
The passive divine agency underscores that no natural qualification (like IQ or culture) can contribute or limit.

3. “Here There Is Not…”: Abolition of Redemptive Distinctions

The location of this new self is described with “here” (ὅπου)—that is, within the sphere of the new man, the community of the redeemed. And in this sphere, Paul declares:

“There is not Greek and Jew, circumcised and uncircumcised, barbarian, Scythian, slave, free.”

This list isn’t random. It systematically dismantles every possible axis of identity in ancient society:

Greek/Jew – Ethno-national divide.
Circumcised/uncircumcised – Religious ritual boundary.
Barbarian/Scythian – Cultural and linguistic contempt (Scythians were considered savages).
Slave/free – Economic and legal status.

Beale notes that this list may move from religious to cultural to social, stacking every basis for division and destroying them in one breath. His point: the renewal in Christ does not map onto those lines. It runs right through them.

“If even Scythians—stereotyped as violent, uncultured pagans—are equally included in Christ’s renewing work, then no ethnic or civilizational inferiority can disqualify a people group from full sanctification in Him.”

Mahler’s logic, if applied in Paul’s day, would say: “Yes, barbarians and Scythians can be in Christ—but they are less likely to be deeply sanctified because of their racial past.” Paul responds: No. Here there is not Scythian. That identity holds no relevance in the sanctifying process of the new creation.

4. “Christ Is All and In All”: Christological Exclusivity in Renewal

Paul’s closing phrase here is not a slogan. It is a theologically maximal claim:

“But Christ is all, and in all.”

This is not just Christ’s universality; it is Christ’s exhaustiveness. In this renewed humanity:

Christ is all – He is the only defining factor of identity.
Christ is in all – He indwells equally all who are in Him, regardless of race or class.

This is union with Christ theology. Mahler’s thesis assumes degrees of union based on external factors. But Paul insists that Christ is fully in all. You cannot say some races receive less sanctification without saying they receive less of Christ. That is heresy.

5. Ecclesial Implication: Sanctification is Covenantal, Not Civilizational

The corporate nature of the “new man” (cf. Eph. 2:15) is essential. This is not merely an individual moral reset. It is the formation of a visible, covenantal people, the true Israel, the church of the Last Adam. Moo notes:

“The Colossians—mostly Gentiles—are now described with Israel’s covenant titles: ‘chosen, holy, and beloved.’”

These titles (cf. Deut. 7:6–8; Rom. 9:24–26) mark the church as the eschatological people of God, not a racially partitioned group, but a single renewed body in Christ.

Paul immediately continues:

“Put on then, as God’s chosen ones… compassion, kindness, humility…” (Col. 3:12)

There is no ethnic footnote. These are the virtues of the new humanity—and they are universally expected from all believers.

7. Conclusion

The doctrine of sanctification is rooted in union with Christ, wrought by the Spirit, and according to God’s sovereign grace. That grace varies in intensity and manifestation—but never in a racially deterministic way.

Ephesians 4:4–5 – “There is one body and one Spirit—just as you were called to the one hope… one Lord, one faith, one baptism.”

God sanctifies according to His divine discretion—but given what He has revealed, there is no indication that this discretion is distributed along racial or ethnic lines.

To elaborate:

Sanctification is a sovereign work of God, applied differently according to His good pleasure (Phil 2:13; 1 Thess 5:23), but nothing in divine revelation suggests this variation follows racial categories. To assert otherwise is to import human constructs into the doctrine of grace and to distort the impartiality of God (Acts 10:34–35).

Corey Mahler’s thesis is not merely unsupported—it is theologically unsound, exegetically empty, and pastorally destructive.

James White wins by default, but more importantly, by doctrine.

For those interested in Dr. Greg Bahnsen’s full analysis:

PA045 The Encounter of Jerusalem With Athens Download